


Ain't Missin' You at All

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete's on tour. Courtney's at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't Missin' You at All

**Author's Note:**

> A vague-ish, sorta fill for [kinetikatrue](http://kinetikatrue.dreamwidth.org/) in the [Bandom Kinkfest](http://eledhwenlin.dreamwidth.org/697021.html). Only, you know, without an actual official bandom girl person. Also for [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/) who indulges my creeperiness.

  
Courtney comes in from the rain, ruffling her hands through her hair to dry it off. She kicks off her shoes by the door, wincing as she gets her socks wet, but given that the rest of her is too, she can’t complain too much. She tugs them off because the stairs are carpeted, jogging up the single flight to get to the bedrooms.

She strips the rest of her clothes off, glancing at herself in the mirror when she’s down to the pale yellow bra and panties set. The bra’s damp, so she dumps both of them in the hamper as well and takes a hot shower, shivering as she warms up.

She dries off and wraps her hair up in the towel, walking back into the bedroom. The house is quiet in a way it never really is, but Pete’s out of town, which means she’s here alone. It’s the first time they’ve been apart for any significant time since they got together, or at least while they weren’t both off doing something. Her current gig has her staying in LA and his involves Gabe, foreign countries, and Courtney wondering if she’ll have to involve the American Embassy in any way.

The quiet she can handle, but the missing him is something she didn’t expect at all. It sounds kind of callous, but she’s used to people she loves being on the road, and she thought it would be the same with him, but it’s not. It’s different. She _misses_ him. Everything. The way he breathes. The way the couch feels when he sinks onto it next to her. The way the bed feels different with him in it. She’s fairly certain it’s her minds way of telling her she might actually be _in love_ with him, which isn’t something she’s ready to contemplate really.

Still, she’s in his house alone and missing him, so she bypasses the small dresser she’s stuffed some of her things in and crosses over to his, opening the top drawer. She skates her hand over the pile of socks and the neatly folded novelty boxers and boxer-briefs, chewing her lower lip before settling on a pair of heather gray boxer-briefs. She unfolds them and holds them up, looking at herself in the full-length mirror again. Her nipples are hard, from the water and cool air or from arousal, she’s not completely sure. There’s a low ache in her stomach that she _knows_ is arousal, so she lets the towel fall off her head onto the floor as she bends forward to tug the underwear on.

Pete actually has more ass and hips than she does, so they don’t fit as tightly as she likes, and the front sags. She rubs her hand across the loose material, watching herself, imagining Pete’s dick. A quick shudder runs down her spine at the thought, the memory of his cock filling beneath her hand, and the ache in her stomach moves lower, dissolving into wet heat. She rubs a little harder, letting her fingers press against her clit through the fabric.

She huffs a breath and bites her lower lip again, sucking on it as she pulls her hand back. She wants Pete suddenly, desperately, and reality is quick to remind her she’s not going to have him for the foreseeable future. She exhales roughly and crawls up on the bed, stretching face down on his side of it, pulling open the bottom drawer of his nightstand.

Most of the toys are hers, though he provided the lube and oils and the leather cat o’nine tails that he likes to tease her breasts with. One was hers from before and two she bought with his approval, one of them specifically because it matched his dick so well. She fishes it out of the drawer, licking her lips before sliding it in her mouth. It’s not perfect, and it obviously tastes like silicone and not the warm sweat of Pete, but it gets slick and wet like he does when she sucks him, and that works.

She holds it with one hand and slides the other down, slipping two fingers through the slit in the boxer-briefs, feeling the dampness on the ends of her pubic hair before she even parts the flesh and finds her clit. She can imagine what she looks like, what Pete would see if he walked in right now, and she can’t help but whimper around the dildo. The pillowcase carries the faintest scent of his shampoo and she takes the dildo deeper rocking forward against it makes the smell hit her.

Her clit is slick and wet, hard under her fingers and sensation dances out from it as she rubs. She uses her thumb and forefinger to pinch it, and sparks flash behind her eyes as wetness soaks her fingertips. It’s too much and not enough all at once and she frees the dildo from her mouth and pushes it in through the opening in the briefs, angling it down against the fabric to slide it inside her.

She shudders and gasps, the material hard against her clit as she rides down on it, her head buried in the pillow, turned to the side so she can suck in Pete-scented breaths, her shoulders aching from the angle and movement of her arms, from supporting her. Her hips thrust downward, riding the dildo as she thrusts it upward, the movement awkward even though each stroke slides it across her clit.

She closes her eyes and she can see him watching, standing in the doorway and fisting his cock as she fucks herself and she wants him, wants to ride him, to feel him tug his briefs over her ass and push inside her along with the dildo. She chokes out a moan and comes, feeling her orgasm soak the fabric. She stays still, panting roughly, her shoulders shaking until she lowers herself onto the bed, dildo still buried inside her.

She rolls on her back, legs spread, bent at the knees with her soles on the comforter. She feels raw and decadent and almost sated. Her eyes are closed and her breathing evening out, though she gasps when the phone rings. She grabs it and smiles, sliding one hand down between her legs again. “Hey, Pete. Right on time.”  



End file.
